


Breathing

by CorvusCorvidae



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvusCorvidae/pseuds/CorvusCorvidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are better left unsaid. Santana doesn't think so, and Rachel has no idea what she's about to hear. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Santana

*0*0*

Breathing

*0*0*

Prologue: Santana

*0*0*

We only breathe for so long. Do you know what that means?

At some point, some unknown moment in time, we stop. That’s it. We stop breathing. For most, that is it, game over. For some, the breath can be pushed back into their lungs, the pulse shocked back into their heart, and they get another go.

That doesn’t always happen, though, no matter how hard one tries.

When that breath is gone, and the heart has stopped beating, and there are no more goes, it’s over. The end. You can fight and struggle for another breath, unwilling to give in, or you can let it flow out of you like a relaxing sigh. You can try to keep breathing, try to stay alive, or you can accept your fate.

Breathing; you do it all the time, and you don’t even think about it. Right this second, you’re breathing, you’re inhaling and exhaling. You weren’t thinking about it, weren’t feeling it, but now you are. You are thinking about each breath you take, each inhale, each exhale, how long to hold it, how long to release it, and for this moment, you can’t help but focus on it.

It speeds up with your emotions, with exertion, with excitement, and with fear. It slows down when you’re relaxed, when you’re asleep, and when you’re at peace. So maybe that’s why some people say a person is at peace when they die. Their breathing has slowed right down to the point of stopping, and with that final breath, they inhaled the last of their life, and exhaled the beginning of what’s next.

Maybe it’s not game over, maybe you’ve advanced to another level. Maybe you have to go back to the start and try again. Maybe you’ve completed the game, beaten the last level, and won. Just maybe, that last breath was your first breath, your fresh start, your renewal, all your hopes and dreams and happiness encased into one breath, making death the sweet release. Or maybe breathing is nothing more than inhaling for oxygen and exhaling what the body doesn’t need.

Either way, each breath you take is special. It counts. Could you imagine being told that you only have one hundred breaths left before you die? One hundred breaths and that’s it. How long is that? It doesn’t seem long. What do you do with it? If you get nervous or scared, you’ll breathe faster, so be careful. If you relax, you’ll breathe slower, but can you do what you want to in those final moments while staying calm and relaxed?

One hundred breaths. What do you say in those one hundred breaths? Who do you say it to? Who do you hug? Who do you kiss? And who gets to see that final breath leave your body?

When you know how long you’ve got left, each breath counts. When you know there will be a time where you’ve stopped breathing and your loved ones haven’t, each breath counts. When you know that there lies a day ahead, in the near future, where you’ll take your very last breath, each breath counts. So how could you not make every effort to right the wrongs, to say the goodbyes and to leave on good terms?

If each breath is the second hand on the clock of your life, and with each inhale and exhale, it counts down to your end, why would you dare waste them?

Remember those one hundred breaths? Good. Now keep in mind that on average a healthy adult breathes twelve to twenty times a minute. Thinking about it, that’s not long at all. If you’re caught off guard, then there is surely no way for you to tell everyone everything you wish to tell them before your time is up. You won’t get to see everyone you want to, and you won’t get to do those things you’ve put off to do later. If you’d known about it, if you knew ahead of time that at this exact moment you would only have minutes before you stopped breathing, you could. You could prepare.

That’s what it was about. That was all of this was about. Preparing. They didn’t understand that. They didn’t get why you would want to, but you knew. You knew that if you only had one hundred breaths left, you would die without saying the most important things to the most important people in your life.

There’s that quote, some things are better left unsaid. Well, in this instance, this was not one of them. Those words you craved to say, they needed to be said. You couldn’t hold them in, you couldn’t take them to your grave, and you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t want to say them, because you did.

God, did you ever.

You would shout them from the rooftops if you could. You would put them up on billboards, have them written in the sky, and still let the words flow from your lips. You wanted to say them. You needed to say them, no matter what the consequences were.

Now was your time to say them.

You had run out of options. You had exhausted all avenues. You were at the end of your tether. There was no more. There was nothing you could do. It was time to admit defeat, to accept that at some point soon, in the coming days, you would take your last breath.

But before then, before you left, before you stopped breathing, before you gained your sweet release, you needed to say those words, and you needed them to be heard.

It was never going to be simple, you knew that from the get go. You still didn’t know where she was, what exactly she was up to, or how she would ever hear them, but they had to be said. So much had happened, so much had been said and done that neither of you meant, and you wanted to rectify that.

You loved her, irrevocably so, and it was time she knew, before it was too late.

*0*0*

 

 


	2. Memories Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not following canon events: Brittany and Santana never got back together after the Hurt Locker scene.

*0*0*

It was sticky hot that summer, a heat wave melting the country with each passing day, and no relief in sight. Quinn had thrown a barbeque, and offered the use of her pool, for the Glee kids. They’d officially graduated a week ago, and while everyone was keen to start their futures, they still had the summer. This was the last time they really would be around each other. This would maybe be the last time they’d ever see each other in God only knows how long. Even those who hadn’t graduated and still had another year of McKinley were saddened that they were going to lose their friends. So to make the most of it, they were seeing each other as much as possible.

That’s how Santana found herself in said pool, messing about with the others, almost everyone partaking in whatever silly game it was they were playing. In a bid to escape Sam’s clutches, Santana ducked under the water and swam towards the edge. She rose from the water, gasping for breath, looking round Quinn’s backyard, before finally catching the gaze of Rachel Berry staring back at her.

The two of them had experienced a tumultuous time together over the years, but things had been patched up, and they were sort of friends. Actually, that was a lie, they were friends, not just sort of friends. Since Rachel had turned down Finn’s proposal and distanced herself from all that he had to do with, breaking up with him in the process, she began slightly out casting herself from the group.

Quinn was all too happy to drag her back in, and with that, Santana found herself hanging around the girl a lot more than she was used to. There was nothing wrong with her, Rachel had calmed and mellowed out over the years, but still, there was a part of Santana that had kept a little distance.

She didn’t know if it was because she didn’t want to get in the way of Quinn and Rachel’s friendship, or if maybe she recognised the signs, the ones she had learnt from her time with Brittany, and knew not to complicate the situation.

So what, her heart may beat a little faster in the girl’s presence, and so what, she may find herself watching the girl from time to time, but if Santana had ever wanted there to be more between the two of them then she should have wised up years ago.

They were off to college in a few months, she was heading to Louisville, Rachel was going to New York. Right now would be the worst time to even contemplate trying something, exploring the smiles, the looks, the fluttering in her chest.

However, just because she knew what she wasn’t meant to do, didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge herself with the thought of it. And with this in mind, Santana refused to break eye-contact as she stood at the edge of the pool, her elbows leaning on the side, her body pressed against the wall.

Rachel was looking right back, unfazed by the madness going on around the backyard, and bit her lip. Almost as if lighting a match behind her eyes, Santana’s gaze intensified, and she blinked, breaking eye contact, but only so she could look the girl over properly. The bikini Rachel had been sporting  was doing wonders for her, and all the rumours Quinn and Santana had started about her being manly and having a treasure trail were so off base it was unreal.

The physical attraction may have pulled deep in Santana’s stomach, but she knew better than to play with fire, and if she started something now, she’d never finish it. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t risk it. All she had to do was last the summer and then she’d be off to Louisville.

Easy.

*0*0*

Another blistering hot day, breaking all weather records, had the Glee kids back at Quinn’s house. She seemed all too keen to play the doting host, and her backyard was becoming their regular hangout. It was just easier to all head there, where no parental figure would be around, than to organise a group meet up in public or somewhere where they could be easily disturbed. This was their last summer together and they were going to enjoy every last minute of it.

With that in mind, while the sun began to set and everyone had dried off from their dips in the pool, Puck started to rustle up a bonfire of sorts and came supplying alcohol, pizza and fireworks; an awesome mix. It was too nice a night to call in early, so after grabbing a wine cooler, Santana set in to enjoy the evening ahead.

Everything was going great, smiles aplenty, alcohol flowing freely, the sun having set, and the fire still burning lowly before them. But it was with a confused frown that Santana observed they were one short, and looking round the yard, she spotted the missing member.

Rachel had been keeping her distance most of the night, no doubt due to Finn’s overbearing presence, and with a shrug of her shoulder, Santana moved off to investigate more. Rachel was sitting by the backdoor, lazily lying over a sun lounger, a wine cooler clasped in her hands, and a sweet smile gracing her lips.

“Thought you might want some company,” Santana said, dropping down on the sun lounger and sliding Rachel’s legs out the way. The girl quirked her eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, mirth in her eyes when she spoke.

“From you? Surely you could have sent someone else, some good company over,” Rachel teased, gently knocking Santana’s shoulder.

“Jackass,” she muttered in return, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her drink.  “If you’d like I can go get Your Royal Highness, I’m sure she’d love to come over and join you,” Santana said sweetly, plastering on her fake smile, as she nodded towards Quinn.

Despite the crush Santana had for the brunette before her, it was obvious that Quinn seemed to have a small infatuation with Rachel as well. The girl was aware of it, however, and Santana knew that it caused her endless embarrassment and flattery to be teased over such a fact. Rachel seemed to share Santana’s view that no relationships should start with college coming up; altogether another reason why Santana bottled her feelings up and tried to throw them away.

“Shut up,” Rachel mumbled, taking a sip of her own drink, and pushing Santana’s shoulder a little harder.

It was the exact reaction she had been looking for, the shy and bashful smile, the slight pink hue on her cheeks, and the soft sigh afterwards. Sometimes it scared Santana just how much she knew what to expect from the girl sitting next to her. This sort of felt like one of those moments, because Rachel had no idea just how much Santana had learnt of her over their weeks and months spent in each other’s company.

“Where did you go?” Rachel asked, pulling Santana from her thoughts. She had a quizzical look as she questioned her, and Santana couldn’t help but admire it a little more.

“Hmm?”

“Just now, you were off in thought, where did you go?” she repeated, sitting up on the lounger so she was much, much closer.

“Nowhere important.” And it wasn’t. Her thoughts of Rachel, of how much she knew about this girl, how much she longed to know, they weren’t important. They were useless now.

“Well, I don’t believe that.”

“Of course you don’t.” Rolling her eyes at the predictability of that, Santana took another sip of her drink to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth. Trust Rachel to be able to read her like a book.

“I’m going to ignore that eye roll, and since you came over to amuse me, I think you should. Let’s play a game.” At least she had been kind enough to not question any further, for which Santana was thankful.

“I did not come over to amuse you, I came over to keep you company.” And maybe, maybe she came over because she wanted to talk to the girl, just maybe she wanted to spend more time with her already, before they ran out.

“Same thing. So let’s play?” Rachel asked, oblivious to Santana’s inner musings and lingering gaze on her lips as she spoke.

“What are we playing?” Santana asked, shuffling on the end of the lounger to shake those thoughts away.  

“Tell me your secrets,” Rachel whispered, her tone light, but her eyes serious. It was enough to have Santana taking a deep breath to clear the panic from her mind, but not before Rachel saw it, her head cocking to the side slightly.

“That’s not a game,” Santana muttered, shaking her head. Rachel seemed to be like a shark smelling blood in the water, clearly on to something, and didn’t want to give up just yet.

“Okay, I didn’t actually expect that to work. I was messing about, but you looked like you had something to hide. So how about this, I’ll tell you a secret, and you tell me one in return.”

“I still don’t get how this is a game.”  Santana wasn’t even going to start on how she had many secrets. Neither confirming nor denying Rachel’s suspicions would do her good in the long run, she was sure of it.

“Do you want to have regrets?” Rachel suddenly asked, changing the subject and causing Santana to frown.

“What?”

“We have one summer together, that’s it. You’re going to Louisville, I’m going to New York, and I doubt I’ll ever see you again. So why not just let loose for a little bit, be honest about things, reveal parts of yourself you don’t want anyone to see? I won’t tell.”

Those last three words rang true and Santana could feel her defences weakening. She didn’t want to have regrets, and Rachel wouldn’t tell anyone. She would probably be mortified, like she was with Quinn’s interest in her, and then never speak of it again. It would ruin whatever they had going on right now, and that was not a sacrifice Santana wanted to make, because like Rachel said, they had one summer left.

“Are you drunk?” she replied instead, hoping to shift the conversation on.

“No, should I be? Would that help?” Rachel asked, a small smile teasingly forming on her lips, and Santana bit back her own.

“Probably not,” she admitted, knowing full well that whether Rachel was drunk or not, she still wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing her secrets with her.

“Don’t you just want to know things about people, the things that make them tick, that make them the way they are? Don’t you want to know what they’re thinking, their deepest and darkest desires and thoughts?” Rachel asked, curiosity and wonder now flashing across her face, and then her gaze turned to Santana, awaiting her answer.

“Not really.” Complete and utter lie, but Rachel was leading Santana into a position she knew she wouldn’t get out of easily, so it was better to fib her way through this conversation.

“Really? You don’t want to know what people think of you? You don’t want to know what they wonder when they see you? How they react when you first walk into a room?” Rachel asked, her voice growing on the husky side, her gaze burning into Santana’s, and then she licked her lips.

This whole conversation felt like a trap. Was Rachel already aware of what Santana thought, what Santana felt for her? Had Quinn worked it out and told her? Hell, had she worked it out on her own? Was she setting Santana up for a horrific fall?

“I know what they think; great boobs, horrible personality,” Santana muttered, shaking her head again, breaking the eye contact and desperately seeking help from the other glee members. She needed one of them to come over and interrupt them. She’d even take Quinn’s love sick puppy routine over this conversation right about now.

“You’re so wrong,” Rachel said sadly, taking a sip of her drink.

“I don’t have great boobs?” It earned a quiet snort of laughter and Santana smiled a little in return. The eye roll Rachel also rewarded her with was worth it, too.

“So do I get to know one of your secrets or not?” Rachel asked, shaking her hair away from her face, giving Santana time to contemplate her words.

No, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It would be foolish and risky, and what would be gained from messing this friendship up with the thoughts of kisses and touches? Santana wasn’t an idiot, she knew better than to play with fire, and Rachel was a goddamn raging inferno.

“I think I’ll pass,” she replied, shrugging one shoulder and hoping Rachel would move on.

“Okay, that’s fine. I was pretty sure you wouldn’t tell me anyway.” Yet, she’d asked regardless. “Do you want to know one of my secrets?” That had Santana pausing for thought.

Did she? Yes, and no. Rachel could be about to tell her anything, that she still had feelings for Finn or that she regretted turning down his proposal, and would Santana be able to handle that? Probably not.

As long as she could keep the illusion that she was only lusting after the girl sitting next to her, and hadn’t actually developed any time of feelings for her, all was well. Rachel’s secret might make it impossible for Santana to deny what she was already painfully aware of, and that would be no good.

Opening her mouth to tell Rachel that no, she didn’t want to know, it would probably be better not to, and to then change the conversation completely, she found her lips betraying her.

“Yes,” she uttered, catching the slight surprise in Rachel’s reaction, and then a lazy smile work its way across her lips.

Shuffling closer on the lounger, Rachel invaded Santana’s space and placed one hand behind her back, bottle in hand, and then rose the other one to cover her mouth for when she whispered her words. It was a very innocent way of telling one their secrets, and the closeness had Santana’s senses alight. She could feel her, smell her, see the detail in her eyes, the way her lips curved and the peak of her tongue as she licked her lips.

“I want you to kiss me,” Rachel whispered, her forehead leaning against Santana’s temple now, her words acting like lighting fluid, igniting Santana from the inside out.

“What?” Surely her mind had played a trick on her, and that was not what Rachel had said at all.

“One of my secrets, I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you,” she repeated, making Santana’s breath catch in her throat for a second.

This had to be the booze talking, and flicking her eyes down, Santana noticed the four or so bottles lying behind the lounger. Clearly Rachel hadn’t been completely honest when she said she wasn’t drunk. She was certainly on her way there, if not there already. Lightweight.

“I’m not drunk,” Rachel said, having caught Santana looking. “They all belong to Noah. He was keeping me company earlier. So no, you don’t get to ignore what I said and put it down to silly drunkenness. I meant it. I want you to kiss me, and I think…I’m pretty sure you want to kiss me, too.”

“What…what would give you that idea?” Santana asked, her voice faltering and her mind going crazy.

“You like me, as more than a friend, and you’ve rationalised it and don’t want to complicate things before we go off to college. Kissing your friend has never ended well with you, and I doubt you want to do the same thing again.” Rachel paused to see if she was going to get a response, but apparently she wasn’t. Santana stayed silent, picking at the label on the bottle in her hands, and it was with a sigh, Rachel continued. “One summer, that’s all we’ll have, so why not make the most of it? I don’t want to have regrets.”

“What could you possibly regret?” Santana asked, looking at Rachel with wonder and fear.

“Not ever giving this, giving us, a chance. What if this is our one moment? What if we get one chance to get it right and this is it? Do you really want to pass that up?”

“Do you really believe that’s the case? You don’t think that if it’s meant to happen it’ll happen at the right moment?”

“How do you know this isn’t the right moment? How do you know this isn’t that exact point?”

“Why are we even talking about this? I mean, it’s not as if this matters. We’re friends, that’s it,” Santana said, turning away and shaking her head.

Rachel could not be throwing suggestions like this out as if it meant nothing. Santana had been doing so good, why was Rachel complicating matters? Yes, she wanted to kiss her, she’d wanted to for weeks now, but they were leaving, and she had a strong suspicion she’d get attached. Friends, they could only be friends.

“Friends who want to kiss each other,” Rachel pointed out, killing any chance Santana had of sticking to the whole friends plan, because yes, if two friends want to kiss each other, chances are they’ve moved into more than friends territory.

“I never said I wanted to kiss you,” she lied, attempting to hold on her last shred of defence.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact you still do,” Rachel said, sliding off the lounger and walking towards the house. Santana couldn’t understand why she was moving away from her, and without giving it thought, found herself following Rachel into the shadows and reaching for her hand.

“Fine, fine. I want to kiss you, okay? I do, but we have one summer and I don’t want to complicate things.”

“Who said anything about it being complicated?”

Well, Rachel did have a point. It wasn’t like they were talking about dating or anything serious. From everything that had been said, it was just curiosity, lust and the need to explore the slight interest there. It might mean nothing. It might mean absolutely nothing and by the end of the summer the two of them could go their separate ways knowing they hadn’t missed out.

Okay, she was an idiot to even think that would work out, but Rachel had just confessed to wanting to kiss her, and that was causing havoc in her brain. The girl she had fantasized about and grown close to wanted her back, and that was a big deal. If she had been thinking rationally, she would have realised that because it was a big deal meant it was also a bad idea to go ahead with it. But when was Santana ever thinking rationally when it came to Rachel Berry?

Taking a step closer, Santana reached out and took hold of Rachel’s other hand, her thumbs beginning to caress the skin there, and she took a shuddering breath in the hope of breathing in some form of courage. It didn’t really work, the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, and the dryness in her throat getting worse.

Rachel, clearly seeing the slight anxiousness in the girl before her, took another step back towards the house, ensuring they hidden in the darkness, and tugged at Santana’s hands, getting the desired response as Santana moved into her space.

The sound of the music at the end of the yard got louder, and there was cheering for God only knows what, but none of the other glee kids seemed to have realised they were two short. It didn’t matter, Santana was in too deep to turn back now, and leaning over, her breath mixing with Rachel’s, she softly kissed her lips. It was short, unsure, but the look she received back told her enough to do it again.

This time, more confident that this wasn’t some sick joke or Rachel had changed her mind, Santana licked her lips and kissed her soundly, her lips brushing over Rachel’s, feeling them kissing her back, her hands moving to grip her hips, and her body melting against her own.

Rachel whimpered softly in the back of her throat while Santana moved them backwards some more, meeting the wall behind Rachel’s back, and wrapped her arms around her neck. Their kisses grew in intensity, ragged breaths falling between open lips, soft nips here, and a swipe of tongue there, until a loud bang overhead shot them apart.

Santana stepped back and whirled round to see what was going on, and Rachel reached out and placed her hands flat on the wall behind her to catch her breath. Above them, the last remains of a firework disappeared for the sky, and at the back of the yard they could see Puck and Finn attempting to light more.

Time to go back to their friends, before they noticed their absence.

Taking a second to catch her breath, Santana looked to Rachel and was met with a content little smile. Returning it, Santana then chuckled and bit her lip to try and contain the full extent of her smile. Holding her hand out, Santana raised her eyebrows in question for Rachel to take it, and was not disappointed when she did.

It was one kiss, they were still friends, and yes, a part of her was alight with excitement and the desperate need to keep kissing Rachel, but that enough for now. They’d kissed, nothing more, nothing less. They were still going their separate ways in a few months, so no need to get caught up in the moment.

Or at least, that’s what Santana told herself as she squeezed Rachel’s hand and tried to get her breathing back under control. She could pretend all she wanted that nothing more would happen, but if the kisses continued like that, there was no chance whatsoever of things remaining simple.

*0*0*

That kiss changed things, of course, and it was obvious they weren’t going to return to normal anytime soon. They didn’t immediately start jumping at everything opportunity to spend time together, nor did they actively seek each other out. Rachel was giving Santana space, and Santana needed the space to think things over.

The whole process of how they found themselves kissing one another again was actually a very slow process. It was filled with lots of lingering glances and biting of lips, and then Rachel just grabbing Santana by her shirt collar at another one of Quinn’s barbeques and kissing her before the message sunk in that they should continue exploring whatever this was.

Santana found it impossible to turn down. How could she not kiss the girl she had found herself growing attracted to, growing fond of, and how could she not kiss the girl who wanted to kiss her back?

It was foolish to think Santana would ever have made it the summer without falling to temptation, especially when temptation was in the form of Rachel Berry, and as each day passed, and the kisses grew more passionate, softer, calmer, tender, and the intimacy grew, she knew it was becoming a lost cause to fight this.

Rather than just see each other at Quinn’s get together every other day, they did start hanging out more. They would meet up in public, a good way of stemming the onslaught of kisses that would follow, of controlling the stolen breath, and the racing hearts, but sooner or later, they’d find themselves in the back of Santana’s car, hands up clothes, mouths frantically seeking the other, and murmurings of being idiots for meeting in public.

Lust, Santana could happily put the whole thing down to lust, in her denial filled mind. She was attracted to Rachel, and since she hadn’t had sex in a long time, that explained her sudden attachment to the girl.

And that’s how she continued to justify it, even to Rachel herself.

The two of them had finally stopped meeting in public places, and had instead opted to use Santana’s house as their meet up place. For a couple of weeks, they didn’t step a foot upstairs, and actually did normal activities like watching movies and hanging out. But that was never going to last, and for the last two hours, they’d been rolling about on Santana’s bed, one hand on each other’s hip and the other in Rachel’s hair, for Santana, and tugging at Santana’s top, for Rachel.

“What are we doing?” she murmured, feeling Santana’s teeth scraping over neck, followed by a swipe of her tongue. It was impossible not to buck her hips in response to that, and with the weight of Santana’s body on top of hers, Rachel groaned rather obscenely and awaited a response.

 “Don’t think, just feel,” Santana mumbled, pulling her lips back from Rachel’s neck to answer her question, inhaling a quick breath before going back to plant more kisses across her skin.

“But Santana, things could get messy-“ Rachel tried to say, both hands now wrapped around Santana’s neck and unintentionally pulling her closer.

“I’m hoping they do,” Santana purred, smirking as she did so.

“That is not what I meant,” Rachel scolded miserably. Her voice was too lust filled to be taken seriously, after all.

“Mmmm, I know that, but I don’t care.”

“Oh good lord, you need to stop,” Rachel panted, feeling Santana’s body roll into hers with that last set of kisses.

“But we’re just getting started.” Santana didn’t want to stop, she was loving every second of this, and stopping would lead to talking, and that was not something she was prepared to do just yet. They were enjoying themselves. Why did this have to get complicated?

Yes, Rachel was right, it could get messy, but only if they let it, and Santana was not going to allow that to happen. Friends, they were friends who occasionally made out, and at some point, they were going to be friends who had sex, but that was it. There was nothing more to it.

“Ugh, I- I know- I know we are, but what if this goes wrong? What if-“ For once, Rachel was thinking rationally, but Santana was too caught up in the lust of the moment to contemplate anything else.

“Don’t think about it. Just enjoy the summer,” she replied, cutting Rachel off, and sucking harshly on Rachel’s neck. It earned her a throaty moan and a gasp for breath in return.

“Enjoy the summer?”

“Yeah.”

Biting her lip, with a small narrowing of her eyes, Rachel took a moment to think Santana’s stance over. It didn’t take long, and with a nod, she pulled Santana back in to continue kissing her. She could enjoy the summer, she could most definitely enjoy the summer, especially if Santana continued kissing her like that.

*0*0*

Laying out in Santana’s backyard some weeks later, her arms wrapped over her body, Rachel’s head lay on her chest, listening to Santana’s heart beat calmly. It was actually very soothing, and gradually her eyes began to droop. In the back of her mind, she knew better than to fall asleep on the girl like that, but she couldn’t help it. She was sleepy, and Santana smelt so good, and was ridiculously comfy, and it wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t too cold, and she felt so relaxed. Sleep was inevitable.

Noticing the slight change in Rachel’s breathing, a few minutes later, Santana glanced down to see the girl sleeping soundly, and sighed gently. This was what she had been avoiding. It was only meant to be a physical release, a physical connection, but right then, it was all emotional for her. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was becoming so much more, and she was powerless to stop it. She didn’t want to stop it.

However, she was going to have to be a realist sooner or later. As much as she wanted this to continue, the summer would end, and then where would they be? It was wrong to think this could continue past summer, and Santana drummed that thought into her head again and again.

She was going to have to let this girl go. She was going to have to move on. She was going to have to give her up and pretend that she didn’t care. This wasn’t the right time for them. Santana knew no matter how much she cared for someone, she wouldn’t be able to handle a long distanced anything. It wasn’t her style, and people would only end up getting hurt. She knew that, and she just hoped that Rachel knew that, too.

They needed to saviour what was left and then when they headed off to college, they could look back on it fondly, and maybe, maybe if things worked out, they could possibly try again, sometime down the road. Maybe, this was just the wrong time for them. Maybe they had been rash and rushed things.

Maybe they could get another chance.

*0*0*

With each passing day, and their impending departure drawing nearer, a plan needed to be formulated, or so Rachel thought. After spending every night in Santana’s arms for the last month and getting to know a deeper, more private side to the girl, Rachel knew there was no giving this up.

She didn’t want to lose her, and she was willing to do whatever had to be done to make it happen. A long distanced scenario wasn’t out of the picture, it could be done, it just required both parties to be on board, and it was with these thoughts running round her head that she finally broached the topic with Santana.

They were lying on a blanket in Santana’s backyard once again. Her parents were at work, and the sun was out shining, and this gave them the privacy to be together without curious and judging looks of those around them. Santana was lying flat on her back, staring at the clouds above, while Rachel’s head nestled against her hip, her legs sprawled out in the other direction, and Santana’s fingers playing with her hair. How neither of them hadn’t fallen asleep already was beyond them.

“What are we going to do?” Rachel suddenly asked, knowing it was no better time than the present.

“What do you mean?” Santana asked, closing her eyes to enjoy the heat on her skin.

“At the end of the summer,” Rachel went on to say, hoping that Santana would catch on and fill in the rest. It didn’t happen.

“What about it?”

“Santana, we’re going off to college, how are we going to make this work?” There, she’d laid it all out.

“This?” Freezing at the sudden seriousness of this conversation, Santana’s hand stopped playing with Rachel’s hair, and she opened her eyes and sought out those of the brunette next to her. Rachel wasn’t looking her way, though, but biting her lip and glancing down at their feet tangled together.

“Us,” she whispered finally.

The more she spoke, the more worried Rachel grew. She thought this was plain and simple, nice and easy to understand, but from the look on the other girl’s face, there had been some serious miscommunication along the way.

“Rach, I thought we agreed this would just be a summer-“ Santana tried, her brain jumping straight into the pit of denial and throwing up its armour to protect itself.

“No,” Rachel said flatly, putting a stop to her words immediately.

“No what?”

“No, don’t do that. Don’t do that to me, Santana. Please don’t,” she pleaded, sitting up and turning to look at her. Santana sat up too, pushing her hair out the way and frowning softly.

“I’m not doing anything. We agreed.” She spoke slowly, but it was like a sucker punch to Rachel’s heart.

“No we didn’t. I would never agree to that.”

“You did. You knew this was a fling. We’re just having fun.” That’s what they’d agreed. Why was Rachel complicating things? Why did they have to do this? The first kiss had been exploration, the second had been a continuation of that, the sex had been lust, all of this had been a summer fling, they agreed. It didn’t matter what Santana felt for the girl, it didn’t matter how her heart was aching with each word falling from her lips, they had agreed. It was less painful this way.  “Or at least, I thought we were just having fun,” Santana finished, dropping her eyes, unable to look at her anymore.

“You don’t have to do this, Santana-“ Rachel began, reaching out, taking Santana’s hand, and hoping to get some form of truth from the girl. She knew Santana felt differently, she knew this wasn’t just a fling, so why was she treating it as such? They could be happy together, they just needed to work at the distance, but they could do it.

“Oh my God, Rachel, I’m not doing anything. This was a fling, a nice summer fling to pass the time before we both went off into the real world. Why are you making this a big deal?” Santana barked, having enough as her mind raced and her heart thumped wildly. There was an ominous feel in the pit of her stomach which should have told her this was the wrong move to make, but she was on a roll and couldn’t stop.

“Because it is a big deal.” Rachel held her head up higher and took her hand back, crossing her arms as she did so.

“No, it’s not, not if you don’t make it one.” They could be friends, they could still be friends when they went to college if this ended right. Was that so hard for Rachel to understand?

“Santana, it already is a big deal. I never went into this with the mind-set that I had to turn my feelings off just to be around you. I wanted to explore what this was, have the summer to work out how we felt about each other and then make a plan on how to continue it into college if that’s what we wanted. I didn’t agree to become emotionally shut down in order to kiss you, and I certainly didn’t sign up for ignoring my emotions just to make this an easier break for you.”

Turning off her feelings wasn’t possible, Rachel knew that, and while she had been all about exploring what they might be, she was never aware that they would be nothing more than friends.

“Why are you doing this?” Santana said feebly, a side of desperation slipping into her voice as she rubbed her temple and avoided eye contact.

“You should know why. You do know. I know you know.”

“Know what?”

“That I love you.” That silenced Santana, and she sat back, startled, her face becoming serious. Those words meant so much to her, were so fucking important, but she couldn’t cherish them, because it wasn’t the right time to hear them, and they never should have been uttered.  “I love you, Santana, and I know you love me, too.”

Maybe, a few weeks ago, Rachel would have avoided these words, but she now knew for fact that Santana did love her. So many nights spent wrapped up in her arms, lost in the girl’s eyes, lost in her mind as Santana shared those deep and dark secrets Rachel had longed to hear, and lost in her soul as she learnt who the girl really was. Santana had been open and honest in more ways than Rachel had ever expected, and knew only Brittany had seen this side to her.

That was it, Rachel knew Santana like Brittany knew Santana. While that might not be a lot to base things on, Quinn was never that close, and Santana had been friends with her longer than she knew Brittany. So with the kisses, the affectionate but innocent touches, the whisperings of adoration as Santana marked Rachel’s body as her own, she knew that this was no longer a crush, but something much more.

However, it was obvious from the stare her words had received, Santana was never going to be honest about it, and Rachel’s heart cracked at the thought of the words she was about to hear. They were going to hurt.

“No,” Santana began, shaking her head frantically. “You’re wrong.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why was Rachel doing this to her?

Santana wasn’t ready for this. She was not ready to be confronted by her own feelings. That was something she couldn’t handle, and Rachel should have known that. This could have been so good, but not anymore, not with the word ‘love’ being thrown about.

“I’m not, I’m not wrong. You don’t-“

“Rachel, stop it, okay? Stop it. I don’t love you. You were convenient. You were what I needed to say goodbye to Lima, Ohio for good. You were a memory to be had and then forgotten about come September. Nothing more,” Santana spat, clenching her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see the girl in front of her, her heart aching pathetically, and all the courage her body had ever held wilting away and dying.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Rachel said simply, seeing right through her.

“I’m not-“

“You are, but that’s okay. You’re a coward, I accept that, but the least you could do is have the decency not to lie to me, not to say I was just an easy fuck to pass the time. Don’t I at least deserve that?”

Santana’s silence grew with each passing second until it sounded like someone was screaming in Rachel’s ears. Maybe that was her own thoughts. Maybe that was the sound one’s heart makes when breaking.

“Apparently, I don’t deserve that, then.” Quickly rising to her feet, Rachel brushed down her skirt and ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you for clearing all that up for me. I hope you enjoy the rest of your summer, and have a good time at college. Goodbye.”

There was no reply, and as Rachel turned away, walked through the house and back towards her car, the tears she had been holding in so well finally broke the dam and fell down her cheeks, splashing on the ground beneath her. She couldn’t help it, it felt like someone had shot her in the chest, had dipped her wounds in lemon juice, and had set her alight. Everything hurt, everything nipped, everything burnt, and she wanted to crawl up on the sidewalk and just cry.

Santana felt much like the same, gasping for breath as her emotions wracked her body, and self-hatred ripped through her system. She’d had something perfect, something pure, and she’d destroyed it. She’d never wanted anyone to get hurt, especially not Rachel, but she wasn’t good enough for the girl. She wasn’t strong enough to keep a relationship afloat and give her what she wanted.

So yes, she’d lied, she’d pushed her away and hurt her, but fuck, it was all she could do. Santana wasn’t the girl Rachel needed. She was Lima, soon to be Louisville, and Rachel was New York, and those things didn’t mix. It was the wrong time for them. It wasn’t meant to end like this, they were meant to stay friends. Santana could be the best friend hopelessly in love with her, but she couldn’t be the girlfriend, but now that Rachel had forced the situation, she couldn’t be either.

*0*0*

That had been the last time Santana had seen Rachel, and from the hospital bed she now sat in, years later, she held back the anger at her younger self and set about the task at hand. While that summer was what had kept her going through most of her treatment, that final memory was like a nail in her coffin. Things could have been so much different if she had just confessed, had she not been so stupid and had actually tried.  That was the problem, she never tried, she just gave up, and she was now paying the price with looming regrets and missed chances, chances she’d never get back.

Sighing, Santana began setting up the laptop carefully, loaded the correct application before watching herself appear on screen. She was thinner, sicklier, than what she once was. She looked a mess, dishevelled and tired. She looked done.

Moving the cursor, she held it over the record button and took a deep breath. This one was the courage, the hope, the faith, the power she needed to get through this.

Rachel needed to hear these words, but Santana just wished she could have heard them from her lips when she was healthy, when she was living, rather than the lips that were so close to taking their final breath.

It was selfish of her, knowing the repercussions of her actions when, if, Rachel ever watched this video, but Santana needed to be honest with herself, and the girl she spent one summer falling head over heels in love with.

She needed to be bold, be brave, and say the three words that had haunted her since that day.

Time was running out, and this was it. She no longer could hold off until she had licked her wounds, or until she finished her first year of college, or until she graduated, or until she felt better, or until she was healthy. This was it. This was her only moment. She had to try, she just had to try.

So it was with a deep breath, Santana began.

*0*0*


	3. Everything I Should Have Said

*0*0*

Everything I Should Have Said

*0*0*

Opening her door with a sigh, Rachel staggered on in and shut it with a thump before leaning against it. She was exhausted, absolutely knackered, and how she had managed to make it home in one piece was beyond her. She was all but ready to go for a nap on the subway home.

Looking round the apartment, she spotted Kurt on the couch, his back to her, head in his hands, the TV on, but a blue screen showing. Thinking he’d just watched one of his rehearsals back and needed a bit of moral support, Rachel scraped the bottom of the barrel for the last remints of her energy and bounced over.

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not that bad. I’ve probably done worse. Hit the wrong note? Done. Missed a dance step? Easy. Punched a backup dancer? Oh yeah. Fallen off stage? Mastered. So, let’s go back to the beginning and we can critique how you should improve,” she said, throwing her coat onto the seat opposite before falling down to sit next to him.

Kurt took a shaky breath and turned to her, and suddenly the thought of missing a few steps and singing out of key seemed inconsequential. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

“What is it?” she asked concerned, seeing the red and puffy eyes of her best friend, and her heart picking up pace in fear.

“There’s…there’s something you need to watch. I haven’t seen it yet but…you need to watch,” Kurt garbled, fresh tears forming in his eyes, sniffling on his breath, and reaching out a hand in support.

“Why? Kurt, what’s going on?” She took his hand, and gave it a squeeze, which he returned.

“Rach, you just need to watch this, okay?”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Promise me you’ll watch this, and then I’ll explain.” He pointed to the blue screen, still casting a hue over them, and she nodded, eager yet terrified to know what was happening.

The lead weight in her stomach told her more than she needed to know. Whatever she was about to watch, whatever she was about to see, was going to be burned into her brain, forged into her heart, and she didn’t want to hit the play button in fear.

Kurt was emotional, yes, but never had he looked so broken, so distraught over something. Not even when Blaine and him and broken up had he looked like this, and it was with a shaking hand that Rachel reached out to pick up the DVD handset.

Her finger hung over the play button for a few seconds, her mind trying desperately to steel itself up for whatever she was about to bear witness to. Nothing could prepare her. Nothing could have prepped her for what she saw when the blue screen changed, and it was with a harsh breath, that she saw a face she hadn’t seen in three years looking back at her.

The screen filled with the sight of Santana, leaning back in a hospital bed, IV hooked up, tubes in her hands and arms, an oxygen line across her face, and her hair tussled over the pillow she was lying upon. This was not the Santana she knew, this was not the girl she had spent summer nights lying in bed with, nor was it the one who kissed her troubles away. This looked to be shell of the one she knew.

And then Santana smiled on screen.

That, _that_ was the girl she kissed behind locked doors, cuddled in the dead of night, and confessed her deepest and darkest secrets to. That was the girl she fell in love with, the girl she gave her heart to so passionately.

But things weren’t making sense. Why was Santana in a hospital bed? Why was Rachel even watching this? And why, _why_ , was Kurt so broken at the sight of her?

A foreboding feeling crept up Rachel’s spine, seeping into every nerve ending, spreading outwards until it nipped her fingertips and her toes, and it was with a shake of her head that she finally stopped breathing to see what was going to happen next.

“Hi,” Santana whispered simply, her eyes alight with life, and her lazy smile reigniting the fire in Rachel’s heart.

“Think of this, this video, as everything I should have said, everything I wished I had said but was either too scared to, or ran out of time to say.” Taking a moment of pause, Santana’s eyes on the blanket covering her, Rachel’s heart began racing in her chest. It was all so ominous, so terrifying, to think there had to be a reason why she was watching this. Why was she watching this?

“I never wanted it to be this way, and I’m making this just in case things don’t go my way,” Santana joked, looking at the equipment she was hooked up to with displeasure. “I…I’m not very well, as you can see, but I needed to say this, to do this, because I couldn’t handle the thought of not telling you.”

Santana shifted in the bed, looking pained, and took a haggard breath, before her gaze fell back onto the screen. Those eyes, the ones that had captivated Rachel before their first kiss, the ones she looked into so desperately as Santana worshiped every inch of her, the ones she lost herself in on her worst days, and the ones she sold her heart away to, they practically pierced the screen, dragging Rachel in, making it like she was there, sitting at the end of that goddamn hospital bed, hearing the words actually fall from those lips.

 “I never told you, and I should have. That day, you know what day I mean, that summer, you were right. You were spot on. I was a coward. I was terrified of it meaning anything because you were leaving and so was I, and if I allowed myself to feel even an inch of what I did for you, I’d fall to pieces when you left.” Santana closed her eyes for a second and shrugged one shoulder, getting ready to continue.

“That’s not an excuse, though. I should have told you. I wish I had told you. You must have known, despite my lies, you had to have seen through my bullshit and known. Please, tell me you knew. Please tell me that you knew. You said that you knew, you said that you did, but I really need you to have known, despite everything I said. Please tell me you knew,” Santana begged, her face crippling with anguish for a few seconds.

“I never said it, and I wish I had. That day, I loved you. I was so in love with you, and I still am. There was no one else afterwards. Just you.” She stopped again, taking a shaky breath, her eyes looking away for a moment before turning back to the screen, but this time when she spoke her voice was softer, reminiscent of the nights they spent under the covers of Rachel’s bed, murmuring into the crook of her neck and kissing the skin as she spoke.

“I love you, and I’m sorry that we never had anything other than that summer, but that summer was the best of my life, and I’ll never forget it. I relive it, every day. Your smile, your eyes, your lips, your love for me, it makes it all better, and I’m sorry I could never give you that in return. I wish I had, I wish I had said it, I wish I could hear you say it back, and I’m sorry for being crippled by fear. I wished I had tried. I really do. I’m so sorry I didn’t try, because we…I just…I wish I had tried, I wish I had told you.”

Santana wiped at the corner of her eye for a moment, pausing briefly and then chuckled dryly, as if what she was laughing at wasn’t all that funny in the first place.

“I’m really hoping we never have to use this, because I want to say it to your face, I want to look at you when I tell you I’m in love with you, and I want to get that second chance. I don’t know what you’re up to and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want to hear. I’m really sorry, I just wanted you to know. If…when, Santana,” she scolded herself, rolling her eyes. “When this round of meds works, I’ll throw this in a drawer and fly myself out to New York and tell you in person.”

“If…I guess, if the meds don’t work,” she began, disdainfully. “If it doesn’t work, I want you to know I love you, Rachel, and I always will.” She tried to smile, but her face was growing tired as each second passed. “Life will go on…without me, but I…I’d like to think I’ll still live, after this, in whatever comes next, in my dreams, in my heaven…my life will go on with you and that summer and the life we should have had.” At this, a sad smile graced her lips, and Santana closed her eyes for a moment.

“Look after yourself, and don’t ever give up or let fear dictate your life. Though, you never did need to be reminded of that fact, which was one of the reasons I loved you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she repeated, the pain and regret evident in her eyes. “So, for the last time, I love you, and no matter what happens, I’ll always love you.” Biting her bottom lip, Santana raised one hand to wipe her eyes, and the other pushed her hair out the way. It was with a teary smile that she whispered goodbye, and then it was over.

The screen went blue, the video stopping, and Rachel sat motionless for a second, letting everything sink in, letting those words, her look, the memories, wash over her skin and seep on in. Beside her, Kurt was crying, letting go of her hand and picking up a piece of paper on the coffee table before them.

She accepted it with a shaky hand, her chest heaving as she tried to control her breathing, and wiped her eyes as best she could so she could read it. The handwritten letter was the last piece of the jigsaw, the straw that broke the camel’s back, and it brought everything crashing down around her.

_Dear Kurt and Rachel,_

_I’m sorry that you have to find out this way, but Santana passed away on October 16 th after a complication from pneumonia, which led to sepsis, and then organ failure. It doesn’t make any sense, I know, because she was healthy, but within a month, her body couldn’t fight anymore and began to give up. _

_The disc enclosed is for you, Rachel. Santana wanted you to watch it, needs you to watch it. She had hoped to do it in person, but things took a turn for the worse, and then she was out of time. So please, watch it, because she was desperate to leave you one last message. It was filmed just in case she didn’t respond to the new round of antibiotics, and we had hoped to never need it._

_If either of you need to talk, please feel free to contact me at the numbers listed below, and again, I’m so sorry to have to tell you. We’ve all lost a friend, and right now, we should all stick together._

_Love, Quinn_

Screeching at the words on the page, Rachel dissolved into a mess, tears streaming, fighting for breath, clenching her fists on the couch and grasping at everything to keep her from drowning. Kurt did his best, grabbing her shaking body and hugging her tightly, hoping to calm her down enough to stop hyperventilating, but with his own tears adding to the mix, it was no easy feat.

Rachel was in a tailspin, her heart physically hurting, her head pounding, hyperventilating for breath, struggling to even comprehend everything that had just hit her. She’d lost more than a friend. She’d lost more than a fellow Glee club member. She’d lost more than anyone would ever know.

It may have been three years since Santana and her last saw each other, since they last went their separate ways, but they were not meant to end like this. This was not how it was meant to be. They were meant to graduate, meet up in the future, and they were meant to try again.

They were so good, so perfect for each other, but their timing was wrong. It had not been the end. It was not meant to be the end. So why, why, _why_ had she died? Why had she been taken from her? How was Rachel ever meant to say those words back? How was she ever to kiss the girl one last time? How was she meant to move on from losing the girl she was still in love with?

It wasn’t possible. Santana couldn’t, she just couldn’t be dead. It was wrong. Everything was wrong. Quinn was wrong. She had to be safe. She had to be well. She had to be alive because Rachel _needed_ her. Rachel needed her to hear the three words she longed to say, and Rachel needed her to say them back. Rachel needed her like she needed the air in her lungs, and without Santana, she was suffocating.

 At least before this bomb was dropped, she was under the impression Santana was still in Louisville, kicking ass and taking names, on her way to graduating next year, so why, why, _why_ had it gone all so wrong?

Looking back at the bleary blue screen, Rachel feel off the deep end again, unable to control the sobs wracking her body, nor wishing to. She had longed to hear those words fall from Santana’s lips for so long, she had prayed to hear them, wished to hear them, and begged to hear them night after night. This, this was not the way she ever thought those words would be engrained into her memory. This was not how it was meant to end.

How could she ever say them back?

Why did they not get a second chance?

Where was their happy ending?

*0*0*

 


	4. Epilogue: Santana's Sweet Release

 

*0*0*

You had said the words, you had gotten them out, you had removed that burden of weight from your chest, and you felt free. There didn't seem to be anymore chains shackling you down. There were no more unresolved issues to deal with. There wasn't any more unfinished business to attend to.

You were done.

It was now only a matter of time before the end. You could feel it in your body, the change occuring, until one day, you knew it was happening. The time had come, but rather than be laced with fear like you used to be, you settled down in the hospital bed, and listened to the sound of your breaths.

You were on your last one hundred, and you had made your peace. No one needed to hear anything during that moment. No one needed to see you take your final breath. That moment was between you and your body, one last goodbye as it fought valiantly to keep you going, to keep you breathing, to keep you alive, but it was time to stop. You'd fought enough, you'd tried to survive, and now you were bowing out gracefully.

The drugs in your system were doing a wonderful job of keeping you calm as your body tried hard to keep going, but in your mind you knew this was the moment to let it all go. And as you inhaled that last breath, your final breath, you accepted all that was awaiting you.

It was not game over, you  _had_  advanced to another level, one where you were to go back to the start and try again, but this time with the courage to tell the girl you loved her in person, and then go on to complete the last level and win. This last breath, the one leaving your lungs right at that moment, it was your fresh start, your renewal, your hopes and dreams and happiness encased into one breath, and death was your sweet release.

You had told her, in a cowardly and selfish way, but now you were ready to do it all again, to do it in person, to say it to her face, to kiss her softly as you whispered the words again and again, and laugh with her as you shouted them from the rooftops.

You were ready for it all.

And it was with a sharp, gasping breath, you awoke back at the beginning of that level, cold and shivering from the water but hot from the heat of that summer. You broke the water and looked round Quinn's backyard, getting splashed by the others in the pool, but you ignored them. Your eyes sought out the one person you needed to see, and just like that, your eyes met Rachel's.

This time around, you'd tell her.

This time around, you'd get it right.

*0*0*


End file.
